The Cold Inside: Call of the Necromancer (Open Novella Contest II)

Chapter 10 - Raison D'Etre

"She's dead."

Fen's words brought the room to a complete standstill. Becky looked on in cold shock. She had known-before the werewolf had said anything, every instinct in her had been screaming the truth.

"That's impossible," Lianta said.

Becky wished the Light Fae was right, but the truth was reverberating through her veins.

"How?" Taraki demanded.

Even as the Dragonling spoke, the light from the crystal flickered.

"Treachery," Kroven whispered, but his voice carried in the stunned silence.

The light flickered again. This time, a bolt of white shot from the crystal, lancing straight at the tray on the stone table. Valoia's glass exploded into a thousand pieces in a loud and obvious accusation.

"Poison," Fen said.

Everyone looked at Lianta. Except Becky, who was looking at her aunt.

"I thought you said she was immortal?" Becky hissed very quietly.

"I would never," the Light Fae protested even as Becky spoke to Rosalind. "We did not like each other, but we have worked together for over one hundred and fifty years."

A grinding noise answered her denial, as if the crystal itself was disagreeing.

"Immortal, not invulnerable," Rosalind replied.

Becky turned her attention back to the others.

It didn't make any sense. She knew nothing of the personal feelings of the council except what she had briefly seen since she arrived, and it just didn't seem to be logical. A huge cracking sound interrupted her thoughts. She looked up. The crystal was no longer clear, a giant black fissure had appeared at its centre, lurking there like a giant spider with light silvery webs radiating from it.

"No," Lianta cried.

That cemented it for Becky. The Light Fae's face was twisted with despair.

"The council is destroyed," Sigra said, voice soft with disbelief.

Becky looked at Rosalind.

"The trust is part of the magic," her aunt said quietly, "if that is broken, so is the council's purpose."

Now that part actually made sense.

"Who filled those glasses?" Becky asked, finally making herself part of the situation.

She caught her first glimpse of Valoia on the floor where Fen had put her. The Dark Fae's features were surprisingly relaxed, she could have been sleeping. Without the imperious smirk, she was even more beautiful, and she looked younger than Becky would have guessed.

"I did," Lianta said. "It is one of my duties as overseer of the council."

That didn't help at all.

"Who put them on the tray?" Becky asked.

"One of the attendants," Lianta replied.

"And the places on the tray are equivalent to where we sit," Becky said, beginning to see how this could have gone. "It could have been poisoned then."

Fen looked at her.

"The magic would not see the difference," he said; "since it was Lianta who gave Valoia the glass."

"The attendants of the citadel are the most trustworthy of the Fae," Lianta said as if outraged by the idea.

"Even the most trustworthy have weaknesses," Jax said.